Quiet of the night
by DarkPheonix 666
Summary: As much as England acted like he was fine on his own, nobody knew how hurt and lonely he was better than Scotland. Having healed his lonely heart for many centuries. Female Scotlandx England, ScotEng, Hetero, *oneshot* Fluff, Nyo Scotland, feels, Heterotalia, Nyotalia, feels, angst


**Short one-shot of ScotEng**

 **Feels alert so be warned**

 **Please review, follow and favourite**

 **DarkPheonix666**

Scotland rested her back against the carved wooden headboard of the bed, pillows placed behind her for comfort as she sat quietly in the moonlit room a cigarette in hand. Her messy auburn hair bright in the darkness, like fire flowing over the pale of the bed-sheets. Silky smooth to touch despite being tousled from sleep and sex.

Her green eyes gleaming amongst the darkness, watching the smoke pool around her like mist. Her creamy skin illuminated by the moonlight, her form covered by the pale sheet. Calm and reflecting on her life and relationship with the Englishman now resting peacefully in her arms, their hearts connected as one.

England was rested upon her waist nuzzling up to her affectionately, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Clinging to her, showing his need and utter devotion to her as an individual even in sleep. His appearance like that of a small child who had run to his mother after a bad dream.

Not many people got to see him like this, at his most peaceful yet most vulnerable they had seen him upset and broken, never at complete peace like he was right now with her. Lost to the dreams within his own mind, mixed with memories of his distant past.

Scotland removed the cigarette from her mouth and sighed heavily exhaling a large cloud of smoke. A soft chuckle escaping her lips as she gazed upon him silently taking in his sleeping form. Honestly, what was she to do with him? The bloody idiot, but she loved him dearly.

She ruffled his hair affectionately, but not rough enough to hurt him. Teasing him even now as he slept beside her in their bed, bringing out her more playful side to light. He was just a big kid deep down, desperate for affection and acceptance from the other nations around him.

He had been deeply hurt when America left him after claiming his independence. A piece of his heart forever lost, his entire heart shattered into a million pieces at his betrayal. Having the boy he raised as his brother and became his world, leave him in such a painful manner after spending so many years by his side.

She was left to pick up the pieces, threatening France and America to approach upon seeing his weakened form. Holding the broken Englishman as the rain fell heavily around them. Willing to fight until her body gave out if it meant she would be keeping England safe from any further inflicted harm.

Relations with France were never the same after that day. The tension between them had settled in years but would forever be there, strong and wild. She would forever hold a bitterness towards France for betraying England and breaking his heart. For stabbing him in the back when he was already suffering enough.

More so because they had both trusted him, being a close ally since they were kids. Growing up together and having a bittersweet relationship, but still one of trust and honesty. But he had stabbed England in the back by taking America's side and leaving him with nothing but loneliness for centuries.

England was a smart and sweet guy at heart, but still held the fire of his youth deep down. His bitterness stemming from the pain of the people who left or hurt him long ago. After suffering endless heartache, he stopped wearing his heart on his sleeve and locked it away. Only letting her see it completely and showing glimpses of it to others.

It took many years for him to even smile again after that day, becoming bitter and cold towards anyone who tried to show him affection aside from her. Not speaking to America and talking to him as if he was a stranger, leaving her to be the adult and handle business when he found it too straining on his psyche and heart.

Though England was known to cry when drunk in front of many, he only broke down sober in front of her. Showing his emotional side without booze to her and her alone. A broken mess of tears, emotions and desperation. Clinging to her tightly and begging her not to leave, seeking comfort and sanctuary in her arms from his own inner demons.

He had never shown that side to anyone, not even France or America. He trusted that part of himself to her alone for it was when he was at his truly weakest state. Showing his love for her. Showing her he trusted her enough to let her see him at his best and worst, knowing she would still stay by his side.

She then hummed and smiled fondly stroking his head gently and playing with his ear. Her heart aching with unending love for the Englishman laying in her arms. "Honestly laddie. Ye big sawfty" she teased affectionately. Though he acted stubborn, he had a bigger heart than he let on. But only she knew that about him.


End file.
